Cara Rossi’s life has been a mess ever since her identical twin was killed. She blames the mafia, its ways, and the people within the caustic culture for a painful reality that turned her world on its side. In an attempt to momentarily pause her misery, a night out puts her on a path with a man she shouldn’t get involved with simply because of his last name—Gian Guzzi.

He’s the kind of man that makes it hard to say no.

Gian Guzzi’s problems are piling up fast. A murdered grandfather, an unpredictable mafia, and a new boss that threatens both his family’s legacy and his life. As a Cosa Nostra underboss, Gian has a duty. First to la famiglia, and only then to himself. In the midst of the violent uncertainty that has become unrelenting in his days, Cara Rossi should only be a distraction for him to enjoy.

Bambi frowned, but wisely chose not to respond. Then, she turned and said something to the woman at her side but a couple of seats away in the booth, drawing Gian’s attention there.

To the redhead.

A woman he thought he hadn’t known from Adam. She had been so quiet at the table, her attention on the few people at a booth across the way from theirs, and not making a spectacle of herself as Stephan had done for him and Bambi. It suddenly made sense then why Constantino had not been treating the girl as a disinterested date.

It was his cousin, or rather, one of them.

At first, Gian thought Lea Rossi. But his mind quickly corrected that, as Lea Rossi’s death—an event that had been widely publicized due to the nature of the murder—had happened months ago. He only knew of the Rossi twins, as their uncle was an older Capo for the Guzzi famiglia.

Gian had met Lea Rossi on a scarce few occasions when their paths crossed for different events or whatever, but he had never sat down and had an actual conversation with the girl. He had been told by Constantino—the twins’ cousin—that the twins lived in Toronto.

He knew Lea had a twin. He did not realize her twin was identical.

That red hair of hers that had been so striking under the club lights from up above was even more stunning close up. A shade that a woman couldn’t buy in a bottle, and couldn’t quite be duplicated in a salon.

A white double-wrapped velvet choker rested around her throat, showcasing tanned skin and the delicate line of her neck. A simple bow was tied at the middle, making Gian wonder what she would look like with a choker on, looking up from her knees.

He wasn’t quite sure why that idea came on, but it was a good one.

Cara, he thought her name was. Wasn’t that what Constantino had said before about his cousins—Lea and Cara.

Gian didn’t pay attention to names unless it served him some purpose to.

Her ice-blue eyes looked him over, and Gian was taken aback by the lack of makeup on her pixie-like features. Most woman put too much makeup on instead of too little, determined to make a man focus on attributes instead of imperfections. But all she wore was just enough to shape her wide eyes, and a red tint on her full lips that matched the color of her hair.

From what he could see, her tight white dress fit to her curves perfectly, and guessing by the way she crossed her legs out to the side, she was not a short woman.

Beautiful.

Natural.

Sexy.

All of that and more came to mind.

“You stare a lot, don’t you?” the woman asked.

Gian came out of the daze with a bang. “Am I not allowed to stare?”

Bambi glanced away from the two, hiding her smile. “I think I’ll go find Stephan and see what’s taking him so long.”

Do that, Gian wanted to say.

He said nothing until Bambi was gone. The two men left at the booth quickly followed her lead, leaving Gian alone with the beautiful redhead. He didn’t sit, though, simply stayed where he was.

“Right.” Cara flashed him one of her own smiles. “It’s Gian, right? Gian Guzzi.”

He lifted a single brow. “My name is well-known around this place.”

“The owner—I know. Constantino told me.”

“Oh?”

“And Guzzi isn’t exactly a … little name, either.”

“Would you like a drink, Cara?”

She didn’t even think about it before saying, “No.”

“A dance?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?” Gian lifted a hand, waving at the club behind him. “That’s sort of what you do in a club, bella donna.”

“I do speak some Italian.”

“Good, then you know what I think of you. A very beautiful woman.”

She did manage a smile that was slightly truer than her first. “You’re terribly arrogant. Flash a smile, say a few pretty words, and I bet most women eat out of the palm of your hand.”

“The men of my family like to say it’s a learned talent, actually.” He grinned, and didn’t miss how for a moment, Cara was silenced by the sight. “And as of right now, I’m not trying any of those things on you.”

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.